


You Were Made For Us

by holyhael



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Threesome - M/M/M, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-19
Updated: 2013-06-19
Packaged: 2017-12-15 10:53:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/848686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holyhael/pseuds/holyhael
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Plotless smut because I got sad over the lack of Samandestiel fics.</p><p>Thank God for thin walls.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Were Made For Us

Samandriel has been living with Dean and Castiel for three weeks. In all that time, the couple hadn't engaged in any sexual activities, or if they have the exercises were done surreptitiously or while Samandriel was out. Samandriel is thankful for this, because it's already bad enough having to keep this infatuation with them to himself; already when they touch each other in innocuous places - the small of a back, the shoulder - a fierce desire consumes him.

If he doesn't hear or see them doing anything explicitly sexual, Samandriel can pretend that the sex they're having is dissatisfactory, and he can convince himself that he wants no part of it.

Unfortunately his innocence cannot last.

Tonight is the first night that he hears Dean moan in earnest the name of his partner and dirty profanities. It is an achingly beautiful sound.

He hears Castiel say something, but it's muffled largely by the wall. He presses his ear against it and hears, "- the next room."

His voice is rough, and it makes Samandriel wish he was either in the room with them or somewhere far away. His cock hardens and he has to bite off his own moan. He can't be heard. He shouldn't want this.

"He's probably asleep," Dean says. _They’re talking about him._ He chews on the inside of his cheeks. "Come on, do that again."

Samandriel can only imagine what Castiel is doing to Dean right now. His cock aches. He hasn't been able to take care of himself for weeks; either Dean or Castiel always seem to be in the apartment and he feels dirty masturbating to the thought of them with them within hearing range. Will they be able to hear him if he keeps quiet now? Will they be too caught up in their own engagement to notice his voyeurism?

His cock is too hard. He bites his lip. He wants the answer to be no, that they won't hear him. Will he dare test that?

When Dean moans again, the answer to the lattermost question is yes. It feels like a relief to push passed the elastic of his shorts and palm his cock, already leaking precome. His shorts are stained a little bit, but maybe it'll disappear by the time Castiel the laundry next Saturday. He hears the bedsprings squeak in the next room, and in no time the headboard starts slamming against the wall and echoing in his ear. It kind of hurts, but he needs to hear. He needs.

"Caaaaasssssss," Dean whines. The sound is so marvelous that Samandriel pinches the base of his cock. He doesn't want this to be over until Dean and Castiel are finished as well. It aches so badly, though, and despite his wishes, his orgasm leaps on him and fires synapses that haven't been exercised in so long. He lets out a sigh of relief as his come spills out of him and paints his stomach. He hadn't realized how badly he needed that until now. Spent and languid, he can't bring himself to feel shame about finding gratification through his two roommates. He doesn’t feel much motivation to clean himself up or crawl under the covers, but he rubs halfheartedly at his come with a sheet before collapsing completely against the wall and shutting his eyes. He doesn't notice that the sounds from the other room have ceased altogether.

It doesn't take long for his brain to manufacture a dream. The door opens. Dean pins him down to the mattress while Castiel watches from the side. Dean's hair is a wild mess, and Samandriel imagines that Castiel is a hair-puller in bed. Castiel's appearance isn't much more composed; his mouth is obscenely red and his fingers are slick. Samandriel realizes both men are stark naked and bearing bruises and hickies. He also realizes, as Dean's grip on his wrists increases, that this is not a dream. This is reality. And Dean is speaking to him.

"Did you like it?" he asks. "Listening to us?"

Too scared and, frankly, turned on, Samandriel can only nod. Dean looks over his shoulder at Castiel and his dark eyes. Bedroom eyes. It is silent. Samandriel wishes he had abstained from touching himself earlier, curses himself for not being able to stay quiet. What were they going to do to him? Force him to move out? Force him to continue to live with them without being able to touch them?

Castiel comes up closer. His fingers pick at the come Samandriel missed with the sheet earlier. A shiver of anticipation runs along his spine, racking his whole body.

"Please," Samandriel pleads. He doesn't know what for. Release? Mercy? His eyes slide to Castiel. "Please." He can't stand the silence.

Castiel nods at Dean, and Dean turns the full-force of dark green eyes back on Samandriel.

"I think a proper discipline," Dean says, sneaking a playful look at Castiel again, "Would be to force you to watch us. No touching yourself or us. What do you think, Cas?"

Samandriel feels as though he might die.

"That sounds like an adequate punishment," Castiel affirms with a nod. His voice is even rougher than normal, and Samandriel fists his bedsheets in his hands.

"Come here." Dean releases Samandriel and extends a hand to Castiel, who takes it and pulls the man in for a hard kiss. Dismay drains the color from Samandriel's face and fills his cock again. No touching? How can he not touch them when they are right in front of him and ravaging each other's mouths like this? He whines and shuts his eyes. He can't do this. Can't.

Strong fingers grab his cock suddenly, and his eyes fly back open. Castiel is glaring at him. Precome drips from Samandriel's cock and coats Castiel's fingers. The man doesn't seem to notice, but it's all Samandriel can think of now. He wants Castiel to bring him off, wants him to push his dirty fingers into Samandriel's mouth so he can suck his own taste off the man's skin.

"Watch, Samandriel," Castiel says. He brings his touch back to the root and ceases an orgasm barely in bloom. "Don't make the punishment worse for yourself."

"Worse?" He's surprised by the cracking in his voice, but it seems to please Dean, who licks his lips and palms his cock. Samandriel loves the fullness of it, its color, the way it curves gently to the left. He wants it inside of him so desperately that it's probably a good thing that he is still in Castiel's grip.

Castiel nods. His hold slackens and his hand comes up to cup Samandriel's cheek. Samandriel can only watch in reverent surprise as Castiel tilts in and closes the rest of the distance between them, presses his lips softly to Samandriel's. There's a lingering taste on Castiel's lips, and just as the other man pulls away, Samandriel realizes it's the taste of Dean. He moans and leans in for more, but Castiel is unreachable.

"Hey, come on," Dean says, guiding Castiel back to him with a hand on his upper arm. "No touching, remember?"

"It's hard to resist," Castiel admits, still looking at Samandriel’s lips.

"Yeah, I'll give you that." Dean looks back at Samandriel as well. Samandriel can faintly taste him when he licks his lips. Dean mimics the gesture unconsciously, and Samandriel wonders what he tastes then. Wonders what Castiel tastes like. Wonders if Castiel has fed Dean his own seed before. He wants that concentrated taste on his tongue. Needs it. "But we've got time. After this we can do anything we want. Right, Samandriel?"

"Of course," he says, strained. His cock gives another eager pulse, and he has to force back his second orgasm again. He will be more enduring this time. It will please Castiel and Dean.

"Our submissive angel," Castiel comments. His fingers are threading through Dean's hair. "He's going to be much fun."

Dean nods against Castiel's forehead and then their lips meet, softly at first but with more power the second time. One of Castiel's hands lets go of Dean’s hair and trails down the length of his body. He only stops once to press down on a bruise on his hip, making Dean gasp. He says, "Let's pick up where we left off," and then his fingers circle around Dean's rim. Samandriel can see the puckered pinkness of it, the lube that drips out onto his thighs. Castiel has three fingers in his partner, and he seems to enjoy taking his time making absolutely sure Dean is ready. That or he just likes to torment Dean and Samandriel both by drawing out the process. When Dean moans, Samandriel knows Castiel has rubbed against his prostate. Dean’s moan is so beautiful; his eyes fall closed, his head tips back, and his tongue teases on the outside of his open mouth. The sight has Samandriel reaching for his cock, but Castiel is aware of the movement even though it seems all of his attention is on his fingers buried in Dean’s ass. Castiel glares at him. “What did we say about touching, Samandriel?”

“You instructed me not to touch myself,” he says, voice strained.

Castiel nods in satisfaction and returns to Dean.

When Castiel draws his fingers out of Dean’s ass, Samandriel feels the loss as if they were in his own. Dean’s face composes into one of irritation, but then Castiel is forcing him onto the bed. Samandriel is jostled at the fall. They are so close; he could touch Dean if he so dared. He considers disobeying the commands not to participate or touch himself. Which would please Dean and Castiel the most: submitting or disobeying? Castiel’s eyes dart away from where he’s lining up his cock for Dean’s hole to Samandriel’s wandering hand. His eyes are dark.

“Samandriel, how many times do you have to be reminded?” he questions. Without looking down, he pushes into Dean’s body. Dean inhales sharply, tenses for a moment, and relaxes. His leg is propped up by Castiel’s shoulder. He looks up at Samandriel, seeing him upside down.

“Many times,” Samandriel breathes.

Dean’s smile is wicked. He motions with his head and mutters, “Come here.”

Samandriel crawls closer. He’s close enough that he could count the larger freckles on Dean’s cheeks if he had the time, patience, or attention. As it is, the rest of his body is fairly distracting. Castiel’s is as well. And where the two met, where Castiel repeatedly thrusts in and out of Dean, where he and Dean’s hands both jack Dean off - that is even more tormenting.

Despite his own rules, Dean is reaching out for Samandriel’s cock. The touch is electric, and it makes Samandriel gasp. Castiel’s rhythm stutters.

“Just don’t come,” Dean whispers. He places a gentle kiss on Samandriel’s knee, teeth grazing against the corner of his bone. Samandriel bites his lip and nods. He doesn’t feel as though he can form coherent words.

Castiel groans. “You have no idea how beautiful you are,” he says. “Both of you.”

Samandriel is surprised he still has blood left over to make him blush, and yet his cheeks are burning up. He is fascinated that he is just as distracting to these men as he is by them. Perhaps they had the same thoughts about him all these weeks. Perhaps they had just been waiting for an opportunity.

That thought is so hot that he fists the sheets and clenches his teeth. Dean said not to come, so he won’t. No matter how well Dean strokes him, no matter how glorious Castiel’s thrusts are, no matter the thoughts he has - he promises himself not to come until either Dean or Castiel let him. It’s a difficult promise to keep, but it is one he will honor.

“You’re so fucking tight, Dean,” Castiel grunts. “I don’t understand.”

Dean makes a pleased noise. He stops jerking Samandriel off, and Samandriel whines.

“Sit up for me, angel,” Dean murmurs. “Come on.”

He does as instructed, confused until Dean wraps his arm around him to poke at his ass. Samandriel gasps in surprise. Dean barely has to circle his finger around the rim before Samandriel feels his long-delayed orgasm begin. Before he can truly fall over the precipice, Castiel reaches over to stop him. He bites his lip, frustrated, until it feels like he’s broken skin. He aches so much for relief. He whines, “Please, please, please. Castiel. Dean.”

Castiel pulls him in closer for a brief, clumsy kiss. Their mouths find it difficult to connect while Castiel is still thrusting into Dean, but they manage, and it’s hotter than Samandriel thinks it should be when Castiel pants against his lips and dries the thin gloss of saliva that their sloppy kisses leave.

Dean positions Samandriel so he is straddling his abdomen. This position is perfect so Dean can continue whirling his fingers around Samandriel’s asshole while Castiel wraps his hand around both Samandriel’s and Dean’s hard cocks. The sensation is perfect. It’s sensory overload. There are tears pricking at his eyes. He _needs_ to come like he needs air. He has no idea how Castiel and Dean are able to keep their own orgasms at bay. He envies their patience at the same time he hates it.

“I’ve gotta,” Samandriel whimpered. “Please, Castiel, let me. Let me. Please.”

“What do you need, Samandriel?” Castiel asks with a growl. His strokes are punishing. “Tell us.”

“I need you,” he gasps. “You. Both. Need.” His lips meet Castiel’s for a moment. “So much.”

The intrusion in his ass grows thicker, and Samandriel realizes Dean has added a second finger. He understands that two fingers is nothing compared to a cock, but it still feels like a lot. Castiel swallows Samandriel’s whimpers and offers his tongue instead to fill his mouth. The hand around his and Dean’s cock releases to caress his cheek, hold him steadier. Samandriel wants to weep.

Suddenly, he feels something explode in him like a firecracker. It blinds him, makes him feel as though his skin only just barely survives the shock of the blast, leaves him trembling. He’s whimpering and crying, and Castiel is kissing him, and Dean is petting his arm, and everything is so perfect. He’s aware that he’s come on his own stomach again. Castiel rubs Samandriel’s and Dean’s cocks only a couple times more before Dean comes as well, as if he was only just waiting for Samandriel to break first. Samandriel can tell when Castiel finally comes inside of Dean because his flawless rhythm stutters into total chaos and ceases to be.

For a long, silent moment, all they can do is revel in each other and the afterglows of their orgasms. Castiel kisses Samandriel’s shoulder before his sweaty forehead rests against it. Dean withdraws his fingers but continues to pet Samandriel’s arm languidly. Samandriel feels so loved. He smiles as he closes his eyes.


End file.
